Praecantatio
by BreeCheese131
Summary: Hetalia Hogwarts AU. The Headmaster looked out upon them from his window. A steady breeze blew into his trailing beard. Nothing could stop the dread brewing inside him, not even the gentle aroma hovering over a warm cup of earl grey tea.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter.

**Chapter One:**

Lukas Bondevik/Norway:

My black robe bellowed behind me as we sauntered onto the Hogwarts Express. Arthur's footsteps matched identically to my own, our faces set in stone. At least mine was. I could feel, rather than see, Arthur tensing his shoulders in anxiety. I let myself inwardly snicker. Some things may never change. The compartments we passed grew suspiciously silent as we went along. Beady eyes followed our every movement. Arthur scoffed beside me. So he noticed it too. We headed to the back. Ever since our little accident when we were first years, no one has dared sit there. I seated myself opposite of him. Arthur gazed intently out the window, looking out upon the mass of people.

"Looking for your boy toy?" Arthur's eyes narrowed with my jest.

"None of your business Lukas," his voice was surprisingly cold.

I wasn't going to press the matter. Arthur's jaw tightened, drawing my attention to the quickly dispersing crowd. The BTT (bad touch trio) could see seen surrounding a distressed third year Hufflepuff and Jones desperately trying to stop her older brother from tearing off their heads. Either Arthur was upset that Bonnefoy had sunk to his low once more, or that his little American was attempting suicide … again. Wasn't he the "Hero" of this school? Oh well, maybe he's actually thinking straight for once and trying to preserve the peace. But knowing him, that's just as likely as Lovino giving a strip tease and lap dance voluntarily in the Great Hall during supper. The train whistle blew a second time for a warning, letting the group of delinquents on board.

"I wonder," Arthur pondered. "How much money did the Jones family bribe the conductor in order to delay the departure time?"

It was a rhetorical question so I remained silent. None of my answers would have satisfied him anyways. It was common knowledge that the Jones family was taught to do anything to get what they want, including their bodies. Alfred did not sport the Sytherin uniform but both of his parents had. He has to have that same mind set somewhere. I don't see the Jones family keeping an air-headed heir just for appearances sake. Not that there was much to protect considering the articles in the Daily Prophet. I believe it would be fairly obvious to anyone what Jones did … or rather what his mother did.

* * *

Matthew Williams/Canada:

"Mom …" I whined as she showered me with hugs and kisses. "This is embarrassing!"

"But Sweetheart," she reasoned. "You're just so adorable." Her arms crushed my body into one of her bear hugs. "How can I resist your cuteness?" I sighed. This is one of the times that I'd prefer to be invisible. The summer had been unbearable. Alfred insisted on staying at the Kirkland residence for more than half of it. Without him at home, I had been unable to disappear like I have always done. Mrs. Jones was nice and all, but the attention was suffocating. I doubt Alfred had a good time either, no matter what he says. When he came home he had deep bags under his eyes and walked like he was bruised all over. He just collapsed on the couch. Even when I waved a hamburger under his nose, he was still unresponsive. Even the stupidest person could tell something was wrong. I'll confront Arthur in the Ravenclaw dorm when we get back. I may be a year younger than him, but I got the Headmaster to allow me a time turner so I could have a bit of an academic challenge and take some of the same classes that Arthur did. That, and the fact that even I am getting higher test scores than he is, makes me important. It makes me seen.

"Sup little bro!" An obnoxiously loud voice boomed through the station. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Yes Alfred?" I respond. The faster I answer the faster this is over with.

He slung a casual arm over my shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure my little brother doesn't get forgotten again." His mouth lifted in one of those goofy smiles.

"One," I start. "That was mostly your fault. Two, I am not your little brother so stop calling me that. And three, I am quite capable walking four meters by myself so get off me."

Alfred's eyes clouded over and for a moment I'd thought I had actually dampened his spirits. But after a second or two he gave a small smile and an awkward pat on the shoulder and watched me intently as I stepped onto the train. I knew I shouldn't have been that harsh but my pent up frustrations were eating me from the inside out. It wasn't that he left me to be fawned over by his crazy mother. It was something else. Something no one would believe if I told them.

A series of reoccurring events that have eaten away all my naïve-ness and anti-violence nature exposing the monster that lurks beneath.

* * *

Eva Vogel/Liechtenstein:

"Manon?" I call frantically. "Manon, where did you go?" My voice became more and more hysterical. "Manon!" The Belgian girl was nowhere in sight and neither was my big brother. I slump my shoulders and stared down at my feet. If I stay in one place, they'll find me eventually.

"Want company?" I looked up, only to be face to face with one of the Sytherin prefects. The albino cocked his head. "You're pretty cute for a Hufflepuff. Where'd your friends run off to?"

It was an honest question but it hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that were about to fall. I could hear two more people approach and question about me. The train blew its whistle and the remaining Hogwarts students hurried on inside. The familiar voice of my brother reached my ears. My head snapped up. The world around me slowed. There was nothing except the two of us. But the world came rushing back for his attention wasn't directed at me. His mouth spewed venom as he advanced on the trio standing around me. Another Gryffindor intercepted his path and was attempting to keep the peace. My head spun. Sounds blended together until all I heard was chaos. My hands clawed at my ears fanatically. I need to get out of here; I need to escape. Pushing past the small crowd of people, I dashed into the train as the warning whistle blew. Students from the compartments I passed glanced at me worriedly but I paid them no mind. Finally, I reached one with only one person inside. He was a fifth year Ravenclaw from what I could gather, two years older than me, but at least I'd be safe … for now.

"Is anyone sitting here," I ask the boy timidly.

He turned, his eyes staring through me, like I wasn't there at all. "If you can see me, you would have been able to see anyone else if they were here."

Taking that as a "no" I cautiously moved into the car.

"You," he started. "If I'm not mistaken, are a third year Hufflepuff, correct?"

"Yes," I answer. "My name is Eva Vogel."

"Williams. Matthew Williams."

* * *

_The train rushed along its tracks. Inside, anxious first years sat nervously awaiting their sorting, going where they have never before. The second and third years talked amongst themselves, looking forward to a new year ahead of them; while the others didn't bother with conversation or hold excitement for the upcoming year. They had taken this trip many times and had long since lost the magical wonder of Hogwarts; all except for a select few of course. Soon it had arrived at their destination; the first years took the boats while the other students sat on their carriages. The Headmaster looked out upon them from his window. A steady breeze blew into his trailing beard. Nothing could stop the dread brewing inside him, not even the gentle aroma hovering over a warm cup of earl grey tea._

* * *

**May or may not continue.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter

**Chapter Two:**

Peter Kirkland/Sealand

The solid decorated doors swung open easily as I stepped into the Great Hall. Above me the enchanted ceiling showed a glorious night, complete with twinkling stars and their constellations, flying pixies dancing amongst the darkness, and a golden moon; its tawny glow mixing in with the various candles scattered around the room. Many of the first years gaped at the display, but I merely turned up my nose. Arthur had already enchanted the ceiling enclosing our drawing room; and that one showed more than the weather … _much_ more. My lips curved into a vicious smile as my eyes scanned the room eagerly. My target was sitting at the Ravenclaw table politely keeping conversation with another sixth year, Lithuanian, I think. Even from this distance I could see Arthur's eyes grow a sarcastic caring look. His partner in crime, Lukas Bondevik if my memory serves correctly, scoffed at his expression but the Lithuanian boy remained oblivious. Rumors had it that a Sytherin prefect, Ivan Braginski, has been using the boy as his own personal whore since their fourth year. I guess it's a good thing that he's dense enough to not notice Arthur's peculiar sense of humour; it would break him even further. That is, assuming, that the rumours are correct. The relationship could be consensual for all one knows. The Headmaster and the Gryffindor Head stood at the front of the Hall with the Sorting Hat. Why is it that the Gryffindor Head is always the Headmasters second-in-command? Ravenclaw would be a wiser choice. But who knows, maybe every Headmaster has a thing for headstrong men that would charge blindly into battle for the sake of others and muscles I swear by Merlin are not real.

"Kirkland, Peter." The Headmaster calls.

Showtime baby. I raise my nose as I sauntered up the steps. Most, if not all, of the first years ran up to the chair like it was a matter of life or death. But I walked up as slowly as physically possible. A look of annoyance could be clearly seen on Prof. Vargas's face, but the Headmaster took on a creepily pleased expression. I tried not to let my disgust show as I turned around, whipping my cloak around my ankles, and settling down into the chair with my hands upon my crossed legs at the knee: the gentlemen's sit. Before the hat even touched my head, it bellowed out. Glad that I wasn't stuck with my brother, I made my way over to the Sytherin table. As I sat down I stared coldly at Arthur's back. Someday I will surpass you. You will be crawling on the ground before me, begging for mercy. You will know what it's like to be insignificant to others. I will make your life a living hell. You will be my servant and I your Master.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland/England

I could feel Peter's eyes on me for the entire meal. Toris beside me kept up his side of the conversation even though I could tell he was wary about me. He left a little ways into the dinner anyways claiming he had a stomach ache. Lukas beside me was practicing wandless magic on pieces of corn, making them hover then slowly rise up to his mouth so that he could eat them. Ever since we discovered we could do every day magic without the use of our wands, we have been strengthening our ability. Every witch or wizard can do wandless magic on a certain degree, as most have experienced Accidental Wandless Magic, but only a rare few can discipline themselves so that the magic they produce is contained and not explosive like the accidental kind. A wands only purpose after all is to help channel magic after all. Lukas made a soft humming sound, quietly demanding my attention.

"What is it?" I ask him.

He opened his mouth slightly to let in a kernel of corn before answering. "I don't know about you, but I want to get to the dormitories before the first years." Another piece of corn entered his mouth. "Last year was a disaster."

And a disaster it was. Some stupid first year boys decided to trash our room. Ingrid, being the prefect she was, deducted five points each, 25 in total. We could have beaten Sytherin with 40 points to spare instead of squeezing by with 15. Some people nowadays. They took all of our sheets and threw them into the shower and of course the bloody gits had to choose my mattress to piss on. Our beds were tipped over and our luggage was dumped out the window. I still haven't found my favourite set of silk pajamas. They were enchanted with heating and cooling charms, and if you touched the bit of fabric stitched inside the chest pocket, you were apparated to my personal study. It was my most useful portkey. I have another pair, obviously, but it's just not the same. If anyone dares to damage my possessions again or pisses on my bed, because I'm still not over that, (I had to sleep with Lukas for a week afterwards and that boy has some freaky ass dreams I tell you) I'm going to chain them down in the dungeons and chop off all their fingers to feed them one by one, while I make tiny cuts so that they slowly bleed to death. They are going to kneel down to me and swear their absolute loyalty and for the remainder of my years at Hogwarts they are going to be my personal dog, doing whatever I tell them whenever, with no objections; and they're going to like it. Even when I demand a full body massage at three in the morning, a dazzling smile's going to be plastered on that face and they're going to thank me for my generosity and be forever in debt to me. I will show them their place. I will show them that I'm not just a pretty face, that I'm not just the heir to the most influential pureblood family, that I can still kick their ass anytime, anywhere in a matter of seconds. They will remember next time who is superior to them all.

Lukas clucked his tongue as he stared at me with raised eyebrows. "The murderous gleam in your eyes suggests that I shouldn't have said anything."

Sighing to myself as I abruptly stand, I felt two other sets of eyes fall on me. Great. "Come on, let's go before there's trouble."

* * *

Alfred F. Jones/America

I can hear a clatter behind me. As I turn, I see Arthur exiting the Hall with that Norwegian dude and my brother following close behind them. My hands quickly scoop up some more chicken wings as I make my pursuit after them. I promised myself to protect him and if that means from himself I will do so. He's no match for Arthur, anyone can guess that. I've saved him from the worst of it already, but if I'm not careful all the effort I put into safeguarding him during the summer will be in vain. The corridors blurred at the edge of my vision. Mattie walked steadily in front of me. Due to the twisting path we were taking, I could no longer see Arthur. Soon we reached a thin winding staircase. At the top there was a heavily decorated door with a bronze eagle knocker. I quickly slipped in after Mattie got the riddle right (although I doubt "this is silly nonsense" could be the answer to any question) and stood in the shadows beside a bookcase. Arthur and Bondevik turned around once they reached a statue of what I could only assume is Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Williams," Bondevick sighed as if being with my younger brother was a burden. "What business do you have with us?"

"Alfred was at the Kirkland residence for a month and he-"

"It was twenty-seven days actually." Arthur interrupted. "I counted it down to the hour." The two smirked at the remark, but Mattie just looked down at the ground. If only he could see my face; if only I could see his. I made a movement to step out of the shadows, but at the very last moment Arthur whispered a word in my direction. It flew across the air like a spider on water. Sudden electricity hit me, knocking me back. I tried to scream out to my brother but no sound came. Warm tears dribbled out of my eye sockets no matter how hard I willed them away. My throat started contracting and I couldn't breathe. I clawed at my throat, drawing blood to the surface with the little cuts I made. My eyes bore holes into Arthur's but the boy paid little attention to me. Finally he smirked and I could feel the charm wearing off. Again I tried to step out but my body was frozen stiff.

Mattie squared his shoulders slightly, drawing a deep breath. "What did you do to him Kirkland?" If I had not been there personally, I would have not believed even for a second that my brother could be anything except passive aggressive when agitated. His bitter tone carried through the lofty common room, causing the pair of sixth years to redirect their attention to him. "And don't tell me I'm imagining things or that it wasn't you." Did he hear me? Will he find some way to lift this charm from me without getting hurt in the process? A mental image of Mattie covered in blood before Arthur smarmed my vision. Mattie … how can I protect you now? How can I do what a big brother ought to do? How can … how could I live with myself if you were gone? Mattie started advancing on the pair. I wanted to cry out to him, tell him to stop, tell him that he's only digging his own grave. I wanted to do anything; anything except stay frozen like an idiot. "Sure Alfred may be air-headed and considered an idiot by a few, but I know for a fact that he did not deserve anything you gave him." He stopped abruptly only a foot away from the duo. "What did you do Kirkland?" Mattie reached out and grabbed Arthur's tie and dragged their two faces closer so that only the thinnest blanket of air separated them. "What. Did. You. DO?"

Bondevik beside him only smirked. "I'd be careful Arthur." He raised a teasing eyebrow. "It seems like this little cub has grown some balls after all."

Arthur's eyes drifted across the room until they landed on me. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" My heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. Mattie slowly turned his head to the direction Arthur was looking in.

"Alfred?" He questioned. I could see realization flash across his eyes as he quickly let go of Arthur. "Alfred." His voice went back the quiet tender tone that I loved so much. "Alfred, what are you doing here?" Arthur looked over at Bondevik before waving his hand absentmindedly. I felt my body crumple to the floor. Mattie's concerned voice echoed in my ears. Before long I could feel his scrawny arms embrace me and his warm tears drop onto my face. I reached up and cupped his cheek, whispering reassurances. But Mattie still stared unconvinced down at me. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep here in the arms of my little brother, knowing that everything was all right. We stayed completely still even after Arthur and Bondevik headed up to their dorms. For a minute I had forgotten all about the world surrounding us. That is until it came rushing up to greet us.

**A/N - This is my first fanfic so if there's a spelling or grammer mistake or even a general mistake please inform me. **


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SUGGESTED SEXUAL RELATIONS BETWEEN TWO CHARACTERS. THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER WARNING.**

**Chapter Three:**

Ingrid Monaco/Monaco

I trailed through the halls with the first years trailing behind me like little ducklings. The metaphor made me smile. As we climbed the spiral staircase, I could hear them chatter quietly amongst themselves. My mind went back several years to when I too was starting my own Hogwarts Experience. That first year was one of the best; **_the_** best now that I think of it. But I suppose all good things must end as the following year those three narcissistic Sytherins showed up. Bonnefoy isn't all that bad, I thought with a faint blush. But even as it is, I can't help feeling anxious about his future. I wonder if he'll miss me when I'm gone …

I abruptly shake my head, scolding myself as I did so. We soon arrived at the dormitory entrance. The bronze raven knocker came alive and asked us: _What is magic made of? _From there, I explained that in order to enter the dormitory one must answer a logical riddle and if they failed to so, then they would be forced to wait until another Ravenclaw showed up and answered it correctly. Some of the first years groaned while others stared back at me with quiet contentment. I asked them if they had any ideas of the answer to the riddle. It was vain; always was and shall be. The average Ravenclaw answers approximately a dozen riddles wrongly before their first Christmas holidays. Many of them replied with the caster's soul, their energy, their mind, the will of the spell casted, and even magic itself. I gave a frail smile at their efforts and turned to face the bronze knocker.

"Whatever it is that the castor wills it to be."

And the door swung open.

Sounds of disappointment and confusion erupted behind me. "If the eagle gives you a trick question," I reasoned. "Give onto it a trick answer."

As I stepped into the common room, I saw what appeared to be a heart-warming scene between brothers. Matthew was cradling Jones against his thin body, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. A flash of motion drew my attention to the far side of the room. My eyes met with Arthur's for only a fraction of a second before he disappeared with Lukas into the boys' dormitories. I could feel unease spread through the first years. That is, until one of them, (a small Latvian boy if I'm not mistaken) was pushed onto the pair screaming and wailing like a first year Hufflepuff. Matthew bounded upright immediately, leaving Jones staring out into space like a lovesick puppy. Raivis, yes that was his name, stood up and kept apologizing to Jones. Matthew looked down at him with a look of … fear? Regret? Sorrow? It's time I should step in.

"Jones," I asked a bit louder than I would have under normal circumstances. When I was positive that he was listening I continued. "How did you get in here?"

"Walked through the door," was his only half-assed answer.

I sighed. "Why are you in here?"

He turned to look at me, only then did he register that he was surrounded by little kids. He hummed in response. "I'll be in trouble no matter what I say."

"Maybe not." I reasoned. He turned a confused face towards me. His glazed eyes sent a shiver down my spine. Maybe ignorance would be the better choice in this situation. "I would consider it a good idea to leave before the other Ravenclaws enter here and get their feathers ruffled."

"Yeah …" He stood up on wobbly feet and shuffled towards the door. I wouldn't be surprised if he fell down the stairs on his way down. "See ya tomorrow Mattie."

Raivis turned around in the general direction Jones casted that last remark, with a genuine look of surprise on his face when he saw Matthew. Honestly, the boy's sharp; it's just a pity that no one notices him as himself than him as a name written on an impressive report that astounds even the Scholar's. I motioned the first years along and showed them their dorms with a quick mental note to check up on Matthew later on. I could only imagine the worst.

* * *

Toris Laurinaitis/Lithuania

Lifting my long hair out of the way, I grimaced as my stomach contents erupted into the toilet bowl for the second time that evening. Sickening orange chucky goodness splattered onto the pearly white seat. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, trying to avoid the stench arising from the mound in front of me. I shouldn't have had that much pumpkin juice …

"Hey Tor," a voice calls from outside the stall. "Are you like done? You're like stinking up the whole lavatory."

"I think so," I call back. Flattening down my robes, I straighten. With a single tap of my finger the orange goop was gone. I slinked out of the cubicle and walked over to the sink to wash my hands. Feliks was leaning up against the adjacent stall. He wore a snide smirk and his long blonde hair hung loosely around his shoulders, stylized to perfection. His uniform was tidy save for his Gryffindor tie, which hung lifelessly around his neck. Feliks cast a quick look at the stall I was earlier occupying.

"Like dude, you totally sounded like you were hacking up your brain in there!" He flung his head back in laughter. _It felt like I was too …_ I silently thought to myself. With a small chuckle and a forced smile, I went back to washing my hands. Once done, we made our way to our dormitories. I walked with Feliks to the Gryffindor dorms and then made my way over to Ravenclaw.

Or I was planning to. Instead I paced the hallways aimlessly. The Prefects won't be out tonight, so the coast was clear. The sky slowly got darker and darker until I found myself walking only by the faint light of the torches stationed every few feet. I slowly mounted the staircase leading up to the astronomy tower. Soon I was standing on the familiar platform that I had spent endless nights on. My feet carried me over to one of the gaps in the wall and I looked out upon the night. The stars twinkled and the moon shown a tawny glow, but there were no pixies to be spotted like the enchanted ceiling showed at suppertime. All's well. It's not like it hasn't deceived me before. A small smile tugged at my lips. A fleeting memory of the day before Christmas holidays in my fourth year flirted with my mind; his hypnotizing voice, his warm breath on my skin, his soft lips, the cold December air, his body pressing down on me, helping to warm my shivering body up. I walked back to the Ravenclaw dormitory quietly. My bed welcomed my aching legs and for a moment I didn't even notice Arthur's absence. _Maybe he's enjoying the lack of Prefects too._ I thought dreamily to myself. But anyone could guess that his idea of enjoying was much different than mine.

* * *

Franis Bonnefoy/France

I strolled past the greenhouses and travelled south to the Black Lake. A small blackened figure stood outlined against the fading sunset. He leaned against the Beech tree on its banks. His hair was dishevelled and his robes were discarded, exposing his soft skin underneath. The marks I made a little less than a week ago could still be seen on his toned chest, even though they were slightly faded. The figure turned towards me with a pout on his lips.

"Oi Frog!" he called out. "What took you so long?"

I chuckle under my breath; some things never change. "Bonjour Mon Cher!" I gave one of my signature smiles and a wave. "Vous êtes à la recherche aussi superbe que jamais." _[You're looking as stunning as ever.] _I ignored the half-assed profanity he sputtered out and instead worked my way over to him. We are easily the same height, but there was just something about him that made him appear shorter than what he is. My hand slowly began to snake around his waist. Mental images of his exposed body sprawled out before me swarmed my vision, making it hard to concentrate. His form half-heartedly struggled against my grip. I could feel, rather than see, a heated blush rise to his cheeks. My hand found its way into his messy locks, stroking in a regular pattern. "Détendez-vous Mon Cher," I whisper wantonly into his ear. "Détendez."

"Bloody gi-" He tried to finish but my mouth had already found his. After the first few moments of shock, he finally surrendered and molded himself into the curve of my body.

His lewd moans filled the air; his risqué body glistening with sweat in the tawny moonlight. As I gazed down into his lust filled eyes I couldn't help but wonder. This boy who lies underneath me, the one who accepts my love so eagerly, is he the same one who picks on the first years, walks over all his classmates for his own personal gain and the one who I see pleasure anyone who he seems worthy? How many others have these lips kissed? How many others has he let openly show their affection for him? What makes moi any different? Is not the act of love based upon l'amour? Does not l'amour differ from lust? I blink slowly, trying to catch my straying thoughts from wandering any further. Who knows how long he will allow me close to him. But one day he will realize true love; for I will show it to him. I will pry open that caged in heart and show him la puissance de l'amour. I will show him the power of love. I will make him mine, and I his. Someday he will realize his feelings for me. And someday, avec moi, he will find happiness.

* * *

**A/N - I should probably change this fic to "M" but I am a bit lazy. I made it as suggestive as possible. If you started out innocent; you will remain innocent. If you started out dirty; you ... well, once dirty always dirty, eh? If it gets taken down I can always re-post it. I am aware that I have no authority to request that you R&R but all positive and negitive coments, questions, concerns are welcome. ~Bree**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: i do not own Hetalia or Harry Potter

**Chapter Four:**

Matthew Williams/Canada

I was in sixth year double potions with Hufflepuff. Prof. Kirkland stood at the front of the class, her eyebrows narrowed in intense passion as she rambled on about elixir to induce euphoria (a potion that induces a sense of irrational bliss upon the drinker). I doodle idly in my textbook. She already taught me this potion in third year, being my Head and all. Arthur and Lukas sit in the far back corner of the classroom. Lukas' head darts up suddenly. With a scan of the room, he furrows his eyebrows and without another word, stands, and darts out of the room as gracefully as his form could allow him. My attention turns to Arthur who appears genuinely confused about the sudden outburst. The quill in my hand bobs up and down as I tap it lightly on the desk.

_Dark_

_Stone walls_

_Muddy windows_

_Shattering glass_

_Hushed voices_

_Sticky breath gathering on the nape of my neck_

_Silence_

_Then laughter_

_Eerie, cold laughter …_

I wipe the beads of sweat that speckle my forehead away. As the bell sounds, I pick up my books silently and head over to Charms. The wide hallways churn like butter as I slink my way through the crowd. Through the many footfalls I can pick out Arthur's unique set. Instead of climbing to the third floor where the charms corridor is, I make a quick detour to the second floor. I can always slip into class without anyone noticing afterwards anyways. Soon enough, I can hear Arthur following close behind me. My feet stop in the middle of the empty hallway, but his do not slow. As Arthur passes me, he tosses a folded piece of paper onto my bundle of textbooks and homework and whispers in my ear.

"Read it when you are sure you are alone." His eyes turn to glare at me. "Absolutely alone."

With that, he sauntered down the hall. With trembling limbs, I force myself to focus and push myself to run faster to my Charms classroom. My breathing is in a series of short wheezes and my knees are about to give out. As I turn the corner and bolt up the stairs, my foot misses one of the ledges, thrusting my body forward. My vision blurs as my head collides with the top step and my body tumbles down the rest of the fleet of stairs. I lift my shaking fingers to the scarlet halo flooding the space in which my head lay. My mind wills the rest of my body to move in vain. My left leg and arm are numb; I can no longer feel them, and my head is splitting in two, metaphorically speaking of course. With a shuddering breath, I gaze at the cold stone wall a few feet in front of me. With all the strength I could summon, my hand tightens into a fist as I slowly hoist myself up. The world spins, a deep throbbing symphony pounding at my brain. I rest, leaning on my right elbow, my left arm still lying unresponsive at my side. After a moment passed, I inhaled deeply and clambered across the room. My jaw clenched from the searing pain electrocuting from my weak flesh and straight to the bone, I forced my right side to drag the other. My raspy breathing could be faintly heard over the blood rushing through my ears. After what seemed like an eternity, a blackened silhouette appeared as I turned a corner. With new found strength I hurled myself towards it. The figure turned and stared at me with their emotionless steely gaze.

* * *

Lukas Bondevik/Norway

My pen spiralled across my parchment. Prof. Kirkland's voice became just a faint buzz as my hand played with an enchanted glass ball in my pocket. I closed my eyes with a sigh. If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel my brother's presence. The glass balls were charmed with a simple communication spell. Even though Emil's in his third year, I still want to keep an eye on him. Hogwarts isn't all daffodils and daisies but there should be a line that one should never cross. He was currently in Defence Against the Dark Arts (DADA for short). My lips formed a small smirk as he played Prof. Beilschmidt to get out of class. As he exited the room, he sent a short message over the link. _I need to talk. _Without noticing it, I found myself smiling openly about his childish behaviors. The corner of my lips fell. With a quick glance around the room to check that no one saw me, I headed out of the classroom without a word. Arthur will collect my books and return them to me after class anyways. My feet made a light staccato on the cold stone. I gave a slight nod as Emil came into view and him likewise.

"What's going on? It's rare of you to call on me."

Emil's eyes were fixated on the ground in front of his feet. "Well," he started "You see …" He raised his head, but his eyes refused to meet mine. His face was emotionless as always, but a slight dusting of pink slashed upon the ivory skin. My heart sped in slight panic as situations played out in my mind. With a small shake of the head, as if to clear his thoughts, Emil turned his body away from me.

"Never mind."

My eyes narrowed. "Never mind?" I questioned.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice distant. "I guess I'll … talk to you later." Emil's eyes rose to mine for the first time since our greeting, and like a fleeting flame they were torn from my sight as he turned and walked away. It was at these times that I questioned him. And these times were the times I questioned myself.

I quickly checked my pocket watch for the time. _Barely ten minutes left of class. _My eyes closed with but yet another sigh. Emil was heading to the Sytherin dormitories. I turned, my cloak swishing around my ankles, and started to pace down the hall. Within a few short minutes, I found myself in the Ravenclaw dorms. I started to peel the layers of clothing off my body. Without any delay, I laid down on my fresh bed sheets, sporting only a thin undershirt with boxers and throwing my arms open wide. My hand reached down to the edge of the mattress, squirming underneath. After a few agonizing moments, my finders brushed a small indentation in the wood. As they applied slight pressure to the area a secret compartment revealed itself. A thick and musky scent filled the dorm. I rolled over on my side so I could submerge my arm totally in the opening. With great effort my fingers finally curled around some old bonded leather encasing yellowing parchment. I flopped backwards on the bed. My hand reached out towards the end table to grab a quill.

_Dear September …_

* * *

Emil Steilsson/Iceland

My feet paced across the floor of my dormitory. Leon, sitting on the adjacent bed stared at me. "Hm?" I asked him as I came to a halt.

"You've been pacing for almost an hour with a frown on your face." His bored tone replied. "It's annoying."

"Tsk," I voiced as I averted my gaze from him. He only hummed in response.

Taking a seat, I fingered the glass ball in my pocket. My mind debated over it for a while, but soon I gave in and tossed it under my bed. He didn't need to know. I stood. With sudden movements, my feet carried me out of the room. The dungeons were more or less deserted. My feet pattered down the halls; my eyes scouring for a completely isolated place. Soon I came across an empty hallway on the third floor. The floor itself isn't used for much anymore, just the charms classroom and hospital wing. Finally alone, my body crumples down to the cold stone underfoot. My fingers move to my pocket, coyly flirting with a broken mirror. With much hesitation, I slide it out slowly. Mirrors have always held great purpose in the wizarding world. They are said to be pathways to the soul. This tale isn't too far off the mark, using this mirror I now hold in my hand as an example. Now reflected in its depths is a boy. Not me; another boy. He has fair locks and skin, but there is something about his gaze that puts me on edge. He is not normal. But, then again, neither am I. All of last year, it was this it showed without waver. He always wore muggles clothing, but now, finally, is clothed in a wizarding cloak.

There was a loud crash to my left. My hand dipped back inside my pocket. A frail blond boy dragged himself down the corridor. He must have been a few years my senior, but his eyes held the luster of a child. A frantic debate about whether or not I should just walk away from him or not bumbled inside of my head. As he lifted his head, clearly aware of my presence, one side won over the other.

* * *

**A/N: Will continue**


End file.
